


Torn Apart, Seen Through

by toofastandtoofurious



Category: Polygon Cyberpunk, Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Amnesia, Blood and Injury, Deaf Burger Chainz, Deaf Character, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Tenderness, it's not discussed but he is and VangO can sign, we come here to yearn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22973752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toofastandtoofurious/pseuds/toofastandtoofurious
Summary: VangO should've told Burger about his memories earlier, he deserved to know, and now Burger is mad at him, and VangO had it coming. So he’ll put his big boy pants and sleep in the living room if it means getting back to normal - whatever that means to them now. He lies on an old couch that feels like an additional punishment, closes his eyes, counts to 10, then to 100, then to more and more, until he feels himself swim in the darkness and drown. Then he sees it.
Relationships: Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	Torn Apart, Seen Through

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImagineDragonflys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineDragonflys/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Walk Down Memory Lane](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20672996) by [ImagineDragonflys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineDragonflys/pseuds/ImagineDragonflys). 



> This fic can be read as a stand alone work but it is intended to be a continuation of/is heavily inspired by @ImagineDragonflys work "Walk Down Memory Lane", which I highly recommend reading first. VangO signs in this fic, and his ASL is defined by italics. I can't speak ASL but I'm deaf, so yaaaay. Burger is very deaf and you can't pry this headcanon from my cold dead hands.

The memories keep coming back to VangO, they’re dreamlike and weird, they don’t care for chronological order or making sense. They just flood his mind at night. He remembers some things now, both not enough to figure out who’s taken everything from him, including his previous self, and too much to pretend he doesn’t see the hurt on Burger’s face, way too obvious for the trained eye. He can read Burger easily now apparently after countless dreams that his brain keeps helpfully providing. Good jobs, good jobs gone wrong, really fucking bad jobs, a three years younger Dasha who used to tell Puck (him?) the dirtiest jokes, date nights, the nights when nothing made sense but Burger. Burger, who deserved to know about his memories coming back from the start.

He should’ve told Burger earlier, sure, but how does one deal with a literal lifetime of someone who used to live in their body catching up with them? He knows car chases, he doesn’t know _this_. VangO’s never been good at dealing with anything but survival, so he totally had it coming when Burger’s eyes got angry, then distant, then glassy in a way that had very little to do with VangO bleeding in the passenger’s seat. 

He bitterly laughs to himself as he goes to sleep alone. It feels foreign and wrong, and, if he’s totally honest with himself, scary. They’ve been sharing a bed since day 1, since the warehouse, since he found himself having a home. The nightmares weren’t so bad when he slept with Burger, but they sleep separately now. It’s obvious somehow that it’s a temporary measure; Burger is still mad at him. “I don’t wanna go to bed angry with you when you’re right here, you know?”, he tried to explain to VangO, and his brows were knit tightly together as if he wasn’t a fan of this decision either. VangO does know, though. He’s seen it before, in dreams where he, or rather, Puck and Burger fought and didn’t talk to each other for days, and he figures that’s what “giving someone space” means. So he’ll put his big boy pants and sleep in the living room if it means getting back to normal - whatever that means to them now.

He lies on an old couch that feels like an additional punishment, closes his eyes, counts to 10, then to 100, then to more and more, until he feels himself swim in the darkness and drown. Then he sees it.

***

They sit in a bar, tired, grimy. VangO’s never felt old but now he does, he can hear every single bone in his body creak with protest after even a tiny movement. The job didn’t go wrong this time, it was fine, it was just really fucking _long._ They were stuck in Bumfuck, USA for three weeks, and the only thing that VangO wants is to go home, not leave their apartment for a few days, and have Burger all for himself. 

Burger nurses his tall glass of beer, and it’s strange seeing him with one. He drinks the beer and a few drops of brown liquid end up on his ginger stubble. It’s a bit uneven, with an almost white patch always catching VangO’s eye. He hasn’t shaved since they left that awful motel in the desert and drove home. This look really suits him. VangO is mesmerized. Burger offers him a knowing half-smile, that bastard, and downs the drink in one go.

“Alright, sweetheart, let’s go home, I’m done with today,” he gruffs as he pays for their drinks, slides off his chair and offers a hand to VangO. They almost leave when VangO hears someone yell at the waitress. Lina is barely 18, she tries to get by as anyone else, and VangO just knows Burger won’t be able to stay away from that one. He nods and Burger comes closer to the yelling man. The dude is so huge that he takes up all the place at the table and then some, and VangO feels his blood almost freeze in his veins. This is not someone to fight with, too big and buff, too drunk, but Burger is already there, already talking, already trying to dodge a punch. One beer was too much, VangO more hears than sees a blow, something cracks, he runs to Burger and sees his jaw go slack, almost torn from his skull, like in old horror movies Burger likes. The blood keeps pouring onto his shirt and his hands, and the floor as Burger falls down, looking frozen with fear. VangO screams and everything goes black.

His eyes open wide, and he has to find Burger, he has to, but something holds him down. He struggles, but tries to punch harder and harder, and harder whatever pins him down to the couch, until he hears Burger’s deep voice, thick with sleep:

“Hey, hey, I gotchu, hey. VangO, VangO, it’s me, I got you, okay?”, he turns on the light, and VangO sees Burger’s face, sleepy and familiar, his iron jaw catching the light in funny ways that make VangO choke. He tries to speak, tries to say that everything’s okay, but his vocal cords feel tied into a knot, so he closes his mouth and falls onto Burger’s chest,violently shaking with grief and terror. He feels Burger’s arms circle around him almost instantly, and that’s a relief. His chesty voice rumbles, vibrates so much that VangO can feel it, feel it in his bones, and it doesn’t matter much what he says. Burger’s alive. He’s alive and okay and he made it. VangO looks up and touches Burger’s jaw. It’s smooth cold metal, not the ginger stubble from his dream, and he can’t take it anymore. He signs, _“I saw how some huge fuck broke your jaw in a dream. Memory, -_ he shrugs and Burger nods. - _It_ looked fucking horrifying, _the last thing I remember is that you fell on the floor. What happened next? How did...how did you make it?”_. He doesn’t say “you and Puck” or “you and me”, but Burger seems to understand. Something dark and unfamiliar flashes across Burger’s face, he shudders with his whole body but doesn’t let go of VangO. VangO feels him swallow hard and exhale on the count of 10. Then Burger looks at him, holds the back of his head with his warm but shaky palm, and tells him everything.

***

VangO has been silent for what feels like a century, his throat is dry as hell, but he can’t make himself speak. He probably should say something, offer reassurances or say sorry, or...something. Anything. He can’t, though, and Burger is the one to break the silence for once.

“Hey, uh...Do you want, um, tea or, I think we have juice, or I could make some soup...,” but VangO just shakes his head before Burger can trail off even further, signs, “ _Don’t worry about it_ ”. There’s a lot to worry about, but VangO is exhausted and he hopes it can wait until the morning.

Burger half-carries him back to the bed which has become theirs somehow, and maybe he’s forgiven, maybe not, but it’s something. Burger’s eyes are warmer, the silence between them doesn’t feel like a stabbing wound anymore, so VangO allows himself to exhale. He lies next to Burger and touches his jaw, with all its ridges, dents where scars would be, dull rougher patches that come with age. The signs of survival. He traces the metal with his fingers, erases the feeling of the ginger stubble from his mind, replaces it with the iron that is the part of Burger now, that will never go away even if he wanted it to, and almost tastes it on his tongue. Burger lifts his chin up with a finger and looks at him with a look that VangO recognizes from his dreams, from his memories. Burger looks at him like he’s the only real thing in the world, he has this tiny half-smile he has when he’s tired or sad but mostly content, and VangO feels like they can see through each other. He smiles back and when sleep takes him again, there’s truly, blissfully nothing but the sound of Burger’s breath in the back of his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my wonderful friends, including obviously ImagineDragonflys, for offering suggestions and in general encouraging me to write it. It's my first prose work in like 8 years, you guys!


End file.
